


West of Mistward

by ely_ely



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Rowan, Developing Friendships, Drug-Induced Sex, Eventual Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Rowan, Friendship, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscommunication, POV Multiple, Slow Burn, Territorial Fae Bastards, Trust Issues, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:48:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22217737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ely_ely/pseuds/ely_ely
Summary: What if Rowan and Aelin's relationship had gone further during Heir of Fire? The passionate, bodice-ripping piece that I desperately wanted. Starring one very angry and angsty Fae and an equally angry human.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Comments: 34
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is set kind of around Chapter 28 of HOF or could replace the story from there. Chapter 41 (the burnout) and Gavriel's visit have not happened. I don't know how long this will be as I truly don't want to re-write the rest of the series, but we'll see. I may up the rating next chapter, I'm about halfway done with it so it'll come out soon.
> 
> I will also add tags as the story progresses.

Celaena’s morning had been off to a normal start. After waking, she quickly made her way down to the warm, humid kitchen to help Emrys and Luca prepare breakfast for the day. Although it was still much earlier than she would have liked, Celaena found she appreciated these cozy mornings. Though she would never admit it, she was beginning to enjoy the routine of waking up, cutting onions, and washing an endless pile of dishes. Even if she had to pull another double duty. It was mindless work that allowed her mind to wander while her body enjoyed a respite from her grueling daily training with Rowan.

Celaena had finally begun to shift on command, much to Rowan’s delight, but she didn’t particularly feel like putting up with more of his petty glares while she tried to control her fire. She had certainly made progress. The fire no longer exploded anytime she felt angry or upset; instead, she was able to manipulate it in thin streams, allowing out only what she wanted. Rowan, though, acted like it wasn’t enough progress.

_He just can’t get that stick out of his ass long enough to acknowledge it_ , she thought. Maybe if he at least attempted to understand that years of repression made this process difficult; manipulating her fire was not something she could simply master overnight, or even in the long weeks she had been at Mistward. Nevertheless, Celaena did feel something a bit more like peace taking root in her mind with each passing week. Something about the routine and the warmth of the kitchen wrapping around her each morning, as well as the nightly stories from Emrys. And although she didn’t always manage to snag breakfast before Rowan took her out to train, nor did he generally remember to bring any kind of sustenance with him, she felt she was gaining muscle back after those weeks of drinking herself senseless in Varese.

Today, Rowan was taking her to a village about fifteen miles away from Mistward. He said to prepare to stay overnight but didn’t specify what exactly their purpose would be in the village. Celaena assumed this would be another scouting mission to find evidence of the terrible creature stalking demi-Fae in the wilderness. She did not look forward to seeing another painfully desecrated body.

“Let’s go.” Short and simple, Rowan’s voice issued out his order while he leaned against the kitchen wall next to the stairwell. Celaena sighed, muttered a quick farewell to Emrys and Luca, and grabbed the small bundle of clothes she had brought with her before handing them over to Rowan to place in his pack. Hesitating a moment before she followed him up the stairs, she turned and grabbed a couple of apples and a loaf of bread off the table. _Even if he doesn’t appreciate it my stomach definitely will_.

It was halfway through winter and there was a heavy chill in the air. Celaena shivered as she caught up to Rowan outside, looking at him while she breathed out heavy, warm puffs of air.

“What will we be doing in the village?”

“You’ll see.”

Celaena rolled her eyes at his short answer, knowing she would not get anything more from him at this rate.

“Shift. We’re running to the village,” Rowan told her before quickly running into the woods himself. If Celaena could keep rolling her eyes without feeling like a petulant child, she would. Quickly shifting into her Fae form, she followed and caught up to him within minutes. Celaena enjoyed running in her Fae form. It was a freedom unlike any she had ever known, one she did not even know she needed until she felt it. She shuddered thinking back to her stifling, dark days at Endovier. She hoped she never went back to that kind of torment. Celaena had become used to running in this form and easily dodged trees and rocks while she pushed herself faster, quickly passing Rowan with a smirk.

Although she felt that Rowan still had a giant stick stuck up his ass, she did feel like they were becoming . . . friends, of a sort. She felt free to enjoy herself in her Fae form when she was around him, letting go of what could happen if she somehow lost control of her abilities. Celaena laughed to herself as she passed by a small low branch and couldn’t help but feel a bit mischievous. She hid behind the rest of the branches, pulling this one back, and waited for Rowan to pass by. As soon as she saw that white hair she let it go with a _whack_.

The resulting confusion and glare as Rowan spat out leaves and pushed aside the tree branch was worth it as he headed directly for her, retaliation gleaming in his eyes. Celaena laughed harder as she turned and ran, made more difficult by trying to breathe and laugh at the same time. As Rowan pulled up close to her, he turned and smirked. “We’re here.” Celaena glanced over at him, confused by the lack of retaliation when she suddenly tripped over a sharp gust of wind, falling onto her face in the muddy street they had just intersected at what was the beginning of a small village market. Celaena glared at Rowan as he simply walked past her, heading towards a small inn and tavern. Oh, he would get his, and she’d make sure he didn’t see it coming.

Celaena passed into the tavern, ignoring the curious glances around her as she tried to wipe the mud and dirt away. Rowan was seated at a small booth with two steaming bowls of stew and two mugs of ale in front of him. She raised an eyebrow, cocking her head and looking at him curiously. “Are we on vacation, then?”

“No,” Rowan grumbled, his face flushing. “I thought it would be nice to have something hot, for once. And I know you usually miss breakfast.” Celaena raised an eyebrow at this, wondering when he had ever paid her enough attention to know her eating habits. She wasn't completely sure when he ate breakfast and didn't really care; he was a hard-ass and could clearly train all day with little sustenance. Although she had eaten both of the apples and half of the loaf of bread on the way, Celaena shrugged, sat down, and started eating.

“We also have two rooms here for tonight.” Her spoon stopped mid-rise, as she looked up at him, mouth still open. “We really _are_ on vacation," she intoned, smiling at the thought of her own bed for the night.

“Don’t get used to it,” Rowan said before shoveling stew into his mouth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, what exactly _are_ we doing here?” Celaena asked after Rowan dropped their things in one of the rooms. “There’s a mid-winter festival celebrated throughout Wendlyn that I thought you would enjoy. Mistward is having its own celebration.”

“Why couldn’t we just celebrate with everyone at Mistward?” she asked him as they walked out the front door of the inn, thinking of the extra pies she'd seen Emrys laying out in the kitchen yesterday. Rowan paused, looking over at her, appearing to be making up his mind about something. “I just thought you would enjoy getting out of Mistward.”

“…and?” Celaena asked him, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. She knew this had to be linked to her training or finding out more about the demi-Fae deaths. “Had I known you wanted to spend the night with me, all you had to do was ask,” she crooned, batting her eyelashes brazenly. Rowan rolled his eyes. "You stink," he muttered and began walking towards the end of the village. “ _And_ , there were rumors that the creature was seen nearby,” he threw over his shoulder.

“And we have a winner!” Celaena shouted, raising her arms and twirling, much to Rowan’s chagrin and the confusion of locals passing by. Celaena didn't care. She was glad to get out of the fort and tonight she was going to _dance_. Rowan pulled her arms down and led her to a nearby copse of trees. “With all the ale and wine flowing and lack of boundaries once the sun goes down, we might be able to gather information the villagers otherwise wouldn’t offer.” Rowan whispered, pulling her close. “You’ll need to pretend to drink, dance, whatever we need to get the information.”

Celaena pulled back, eyes lighting up. “You have no idea what I can do, what _we_ can do” she said, as she began humming to herself as she tried to pull Rowan into a waltz. Rowan’s sigh this time was even more dramatic as he held her in place and _attempted_ to look seriously into her eyes (Celaena was absolutely positive she saw his mouth twitch upwards). “While I’m trying to get information from those watching the celebration, this would be a perfect time for you to … _flirt_ ,” Rowan swallowed uncomfortably, as if the very idea of flirting was one with which he did not want to become familiar. Specifically if it involved Celaena.

Celaena laughed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the festivities she saw beginning at the end of the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the night wore on, Rowan found himself gritting his teeth more and more. He appreciated the ale for providing relief from the headache Aelin was causing him. While he wandered over to the more seasoned soldiers and veterans he saw standing and sitting around the giant bonfire with their families, Aelin seemed to be completely in her element. Every dance she danced and anytime someone started to make eyes at her she made them right back. He’d lost count of how many drinks either of them had had by this point, knowing his Fae blood would help him absorb the alcohol more slowly. He had no idea what Aelin’s tolerance was.

Currently, Rowan was leaning against a tree, glaring daggers at a group of young men who seemed to be enamored with Aelin. He was trying his best to keep from walking over there and ripping all of their throats out. He didn't know why he felt this way and had no desire to find out. He pushed away those confusing thoughts and watched as Aelin accepted yet another drink from one of the men. After a few sips, she smiled and laughed, throwing her head back at something one of them said. Rowan growled low in his throat. _They can’t be_ that _interesting_. Her throat was gleaming with sweat from her dancing and the light of the fire; she was absolutely radiant and in her element. Although Rowan was annoyed, he found himself enjoying this view of her. She seemed young and carefree, every bit her nineteen years.

Rowan watched as another man stepped out from the trees, calling over to the group. One of them nodded, took Aelin’s hand and began pulling her over towards him. Aelin appeared more than happy to go along with them, so Rowan left her to her own devices as he sighed and looked at his empty mug. “Would you like another?” a young woman’s voice asked. He looked up and saw a beautiful woman, maybe a few years older than Aelin, standing in front of him with a hesitant smile, holding up a mug of ale. Rowan grinned back and gratefully took it from her, taking a sip. She took his empty mug from him and placed it on the ground. He knew what these festivals were about; offerings and acceptance. Although he had some conflicting feelings regarding Aelin and would rather be spending time with her, he had to admit he was lonely and it would be pleasant to spend some time with a beautiful female, working out his sexual frustration, even just for the night. After all, they had two separate rooms. And he had garnered as much information as he felt he could get before the older men became too drunk to remember what they were saying and began repeating war stories.

The woman leaned in, running a hand down his arm. She reminded him of Lyria in her softness and gentleness, the complete opposite of Aelin, who was all fire and passion. Rowan slipped his hand around her small waist and pulled her closer. She smiled, leaning in to drop soft kisses along his throat. He took a few more deep draughts of the drink before dropping it next to him and turning his attention fully to the woman. He ran his hands up her sides and leaned in to kiss her fully. She tasted like honey and something else he couldn’t name. She leaned further into his embrace as he tasted the seam of her lips, shifting her hips against his. He felt himself reacting completely and wondered if he’d actually be able to make it back to his room at the inn.

As she sighed and reached a hand up into his hair, shifting her hips even more earnestly against his own, Rowan suddenly pulled back. _Where was Aelin?_ He looked around, glancing at the deepening darkness and smaller fire. People had begun to couple off, some caught up together in the middle of the opening and a few headed into the tree line to find a more secluded place. But nowhere did he see Aelin. _She can take care of herself_ , Rowan thought, turning his attention back to the woman. Ignoring the sharp feeling of jealousy, he deepened the kiss and began to forget about Aelin, absorbed wholly in the woman in front of him.

While they continued their tryst, Rowan felt himself harden painfully. They needed to find a more secluded place, or he was going to lose it in his pants. Not his finest moment. He pulled away from her, looking around for a place nearby to continue their night. He grabbed her hand and began leading her into the trees, a lustful haze dropping down onto his thoughts. As they walked, they passed couples murmuring to each other, caught up in their activities. Some were simply kissing, but others were fully embracing this night of what seemed to be consequence-free passion. He found a tree with low-hanging branches and pulled the woman over there.

Rowan began to loosen the ties on the woman's dress, pushing a shoulder down to reveal a soft breast, kissing and licking as he went. He felt her start tugging at the strings on his pants and he groaned as she brushed against him and pulled him out. In the middle of his haze, Rowen had a sudden spike of anxiety, as if something important was out of place. Having learned through the loss of Lyria and centuries of warfare not to ignore those subtle inner warnings, he tried to listen to the surrounding forest. But something was pulling him back to this woman, as though he had been caught in a web and kept being dragged back when he tried to leave. Thinking back to the ale she had handed him, he remembered their first kisses tasted sweet, most likely because of the ale. He shook his head, grabbing her wrists and pulling her away from him. He tried to think clearly with the fog in his mind. After most of the older folks and families had left, he remembered seeing a different casket being opened, one that hadn’t been used before. He remembered seeing single men and women taking ale from this one to others and saw as they slowly became physically amorous with each other, often heading off into the woods. This was where Aelin’s mug had come from, the one handed to her by the young man before the other man called them into the woods. _Shit_. He’d lost his gods-forsaken mind. He hadn’t been to one of these celebrations in decades and forgot that this last casket often contained some kind of concoction that lowered inhibitions and incited more…passionate instincts.

_Fuck_. The woman was looking at him in confusion, her head tilted to the side. _Where was Aelin?_ He couldn’t explain why but he felt like he needed to find her. Immediately.

Rowan backed around the tree, muttering his apologies and turning back towards the bonfire. He began running, glancing at couples as he passed. _Where the rutting hell is Aelin?_ He felt himself becoming frantic as seconds became minutes and he still could not find her. He paused, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, searching for her scent, ignoring his open pants and shirt. He could feel his heart beating harder as he picked up on it, the pressure in his blood rising as he followed that blazing smell. It was definitely Aelin, he could almost taste the fire running through her veins. As he tripped over roots and rocks in the dark which his normal Fae senses would have little problem seeing. As he ran he smelled hints of Aelin's desire mixed with the lust of other men. Eyes blazing, Rowan surged ahead.

Seconds, minutes, hours later, Rowan found her, held back against another man who was kissing her neck as a second one was tasting her, one of her legs thrown around his shoulder. Her head was thrown back and eyes closed as she held on to both of their heads, moaning obscenely. In her haze, Aelin must have still picked up on his scent, because she opened her eyes and looked at him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Rowan is a territorial Fae bastard, both assume the wrong things about each other, and I steal a potion from Harry Potter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I chose not to include the explicit version (I'm a coward and it's not super long anyway). If, after reading, there is a desire for it, I will add it.
> 
> Not fully satisfied with this chapter, but it moves the plot forward.

Celaena froze in the middle of her passionate escapade. Out of the dark night she saw Rowan stalking towards her, his normal façade of calm had given way to something almost animalistic. He was _furious_. She had left Rowan behind after she was handed an ale spiked with _amortentia_ , a potion known to incite a haze of lust and forgetfulness. She was certainly willing to forget. She had seen other women making eyes at him all night as they danced and drank around him, and it stirred something deep and vicious in her blood. After she walked off with two men who had allegedly seen and fought the creature two nights ago, finding a place to talk just inside the line of trees, she looked back at Rowan and saw him taking a mug of ale from a beautiful young woman. She listened only half-heartedly to the two men describing their exploits in fending off the creature, focusing on Rowan as he sipped his ale and pulled the woman closer. The kiss they shared, and rutting hell are they _dry-humping?_ , set Celaena off. She was originally trying to be cautious about what she drank but as she watched Rowen walk off into the woods, leading the other woman by the hand, she threw caution to the wind and tipped her head back, gulping down the contents in one go.

She wasn’t fully sure what happened immediately afterwards, but knew it involved whispers, some drunk giggling, and suddenly the glorious feeling of one, no, _two men_ , touching her body.

She looked up at Rowan and could see, given the state of his clothes, that he had not held back with that other woman. So, she relaxed back into the two men and moaned _louder_. Apparently, this was the edge of no return over which she had pushed the territorial Fae bastard. She heard a loud growl begin to rumble from Rowan’s throat, not unlike a large carnivorous animal preparing to pounce on its prey. Celaena half expected him to drop to all fours and start pawing at the ground like a horse. The two men (Filion and Bruso?) suddenly stopped, looking up at the growling Fae. Even without Fae senses and in the dark, seeing the furor in his face as he stalked towards them made them quickly back away from Celaena, leaving her feeling cold and greatly annoyed. The two men wisely turned and fled, allowing Celaena the pleasure of trying to calm the Fae down on her own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan growled, watching the two men run off into the woods. He wanted to follow them and tear out their throats, but he could still smell the lust coming off of Aelin in waves. His Fae instincts would not let him leave. She smirked haughtily at him, retying her pants and looking pointedly at his own. He didn’t give a rutting fuck what she thought, all reasonable thoughts disappeared from his mind as he stalked closer to her, backing her up against a tree. She calmly cleared her throat, raised an eyebrow, and waited for him, as if he had simply interrupted an afternoon tea with a friend.

Leaning in, Rowan began to trail delicate kisses from her neck to her ear, tracing her side with his hand. “Having fun?” he whispered. He could tell that Aelin fought to control the emotions on her face, although her uneven breathing and blown pupils (which were now evident up close) gave her away. “Yes,” she breathed. Rowan continued to lightly kiss down her jaw, moving to the other side and gently biting her earlobe. After Aelin gave a soft moan, the scent of her desire spiking, Rowan could no longer hold himself back. The need to claim her, to _mark_ her, overtook him. He clutched her hip firmly and moved his head down, sinking his canines into that soft place between her neck and shoulder with a groan. He'd forgotten how much he loved the taste of _Aelin_. She smelled and tasted like wildfire, embers burning her imprint into his very being. He bit deeper, wanting to completely consume her. He remembered the feeling of disappointment that overtook him when he tasted another male in her blood that first time. Now, though, she tasted like _him_. Something deep inside him felt satisfied at this and in his hazy state he did not think to question why.

When they had first arrived to the village, Aelin had shifted back into her human form in an attempt to better blend in and make the locals less nervous. She remained in that form through the night, and although the first time he bit her she had shifted into her Fae form, tonight she remained human. Rowan was almost disappointed but did not care enough to stop. He felt the haze from before settling deeper, but this time, he did not struggle. He kissed the mark he had made with bloody lips, some wild instinct in him hoping that it would bruise and scar, showing the world that Aelin was _his_. He ran his hand further down her side and began loosening the strings she had just re-tied. As he slipped his hand inside and touched her, Aelin gasped. He wanted to consume each one of her gasps, her every breath. Covering her mouth with his, he drew his hand out and pushed against her with his entire body, kissing her deeply. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, the deeper part of him that told him to _slow down_ warring with the lust that was overwhelming his mind. She looked back up at him and smiled slowly, a sweet, warm smile that filled some quiet, cold space in his heart that he had long forgotten existed.

This time, Rowan kissed her slowly, a gentle pressure that allowed her to lead. Aelin followed his pace before giving up and biting his bottom lip, demanding entrance. _Like a queen demanding of her court_ , Rowan thought, chuckling. She whined as his laughter pulled him away, so he quickly pressed his lips back against her own. As he continued to deepen the kiss, he pulled her away from the tree and gently laid her down in the cold leaves as the haze of their passion consumed them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Celaena stretched out in her bed as sunlight streamed into her room’s window, strangely relaxed after what she vaguely remembered to be a long night with a lot of dancing, drinking, and trying to flirt information out of the locals. She wasn’t fully sure what happened and given the massive migraine she felt inching itself into her head, she probably did not want to remember. As she rose out of bed to pull on her clothes, which seemed to be haphazardly thrown on the ground next to her bed (was one of her boots _under_ the bed?), she wondered how Rowan faired last night, if he was able to glean any information from the local villagers. She remembered meeting at least a couple of people before her memories became too hazy. She frowned, feeling like she was missing something important. Maybe someone actually _had_ seen the creature? Last night it felt more like the attempts of young men to out-brag each other in front of her rather than actual interactions with the creature. She heard a lot of _blood dripping from its eyes_ along with _scales, horns, fire breathing,_ and _howling at the moon_. She couldn't tell if they thought they were describing the creature she saw or a fucking wivern. They clearly had never seen it and were only trying to get a girl for the night. This became more apparent as they then tried to one-up each other with its height and how they were able to single handedly chase it off. Which no one else witnessed, of course.

Celaena shrugged. Hopefully Rowan found out something. She walked over to the basin of water, glancing at the faded, tiny cracked mirror above. She frowned at her reflection and what looked like a bruise and blood on her neck. _Is that a bite?_ Moving closer to the mirror, she tried to inspect the area but was unable to see much. And her shirt had seen better days. It looked like there was dried blood underneath the area, as though something had bit her hard enough to bleed profusely. _Or someone_ , Celaena reflected, thinking back to the day of training when Rowan bit her to get her to shift into her Fae form. Looking around the room, she did not see any of her extra clothes. She remembered handing them to Rowan the morning before to carry, he must have them in his pack.

She dipped her hands into the water, splashed her face and then tried to clean up the dried blood on her neck and shirt. Although she was able to clean up her neck (it _is_ a bite! What the _rutting hell?_ ), the stain remained on her shirt. There was nothing else for it but to find Rowan and ask for her spare. She was fairly annoyed at Rowan, though. She remembered him kissing and feeling up a woman before walking off with her into the woods towards the end of the night, which in turn spurred her on to drink the spiked ale and do something that was most likely massively stupid. And which she did not remember. Celaena supposed she had no right to feel jealous of whoever the woman was, but as she and Rowan grew closer, she felt a connection with him that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She could admit to herself that she found him…attractive. She wanted to get past his barriers and know him, become close friends, even more. And she wasn’t willing to share that intimacy.

As she gathered her remaining items from the room, she ran her fingers through her hair, starting on a long braid for the run back to Mistward. Celaena walked down the stairs and saw Rowan sitting at a table with some breakfast and what was hopefully a cup of coffee. At the sight and smell of the food she forgot her previous mission to ask for her spare shirt. As she got closer to the table, finishing off her braid, he looked up. He looked _terrible_. Rowan's clothes were rumpled and he looked as though he hadn't slept at all. _Did he even come back to the inn last night or did he stay out with that woman? Did he bring her back? Is she still upstairs?_ Celaena willed her thoughts and racing heart to calm down. She slipped into the seat across from him. “I hope you had fun last night,” she remarked with a smirk, ignoring the anger and hurt bubbling up, “I know I did.”

Rowan slowly looked up, face and neck flushing a deep red as he caught sight of her neck. He quickly looked back down. “Do you remember what happened last night?” he asked hesitantly. “I remember you seemed to enjoy yourself, you definitely seemed to like the company,” Celaena retorted angrily. His forehead furrowed, a confused look crossing his face before a mask of calm returned. It seemed he was back to ignoring her. Reaching for his coffee, Celaena sighed. She had hoped that this trip would help their friendship progress, maybe build more trust between them. She felt like they had started to become so close, actually enjoying spending time with each other as evidenced by their pranks while running to the village. Now it appeared they would have to begin again. _Because of this damn Fae and his rutting_ _stubbornness._ “Did you find anything out last night?” she asked, stealing bites from his breakfast, an action he seemed to ignore. "Anything about this creature attacking demi-Faes?"

“No.” His answer was clipped, and he avoided looking at her, staring at the unfinished and graffitied wood of the table instead, dragging his finger across the worn-down splinters. Celaena sighed again. “Neither did I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is welcome!! Also, I don't remember if they have coffee in the TOG series? But I personally feel it is a vital necessity to mornings and that Celaena/Aelin feels the same.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, secrets, are no fun. This chapter is angsty. Please see new tags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some conversation towards the end taken from Maas's Heir of Fire, chapter 33. 
> 
> This chapter is also written fully from Aelin's perspective and is much longer than other chapters (this will not be the new norm). I just couldn't find a good place to break up the storyline.
> 
> Please note: I edited chapter one. If you read the original version, it isn't necessary to read the new. I think it's better, though.

They avoided looking at each other or interacting for the entire trip home. Celaena didn’t understand why Rowan was acting so pissy as he ran ahead. Their evening yesterday had started off well enough and from what she could see he definitely made a sexual connection with someone, even if deep down she kind of wished it was with her. _Maybe he ran into a jealous husband_ , she thought, laughing. What she wouldn’t give to see that awkward interaction. She had hoped that the lost memories from the former night would come back to her during their run; maybe the exercise would clear the haze. Instead, she only became more confused. If she had slept with someone then she should take a tonic. Had that person been Rowan, though, she had a feeling she would be tempted to _not_ take a tonic.

Speaking of, was he the one who fucking _bit her?_ What she could see of the mark in the faded mirror at the inn didn’t look like a human bite; it truly appeared to be Fae. Perhaps he helped her return to the inn? Maybe he found her and had a moment of territorial Fae-bastardism before “helping” her back and on the way felt it was a good idea to mark her. She shook her head. The only way she would find out what happened was through Rowan, and he didn’t seem inclined to talk. That’s if he even remembered after drinking the spiked ale which that upstart bitch had handed him by the fire.

After only a few hours, they reached Mistward. Celaena sighed, wishing they had been able to return with solid information. She had hoped the outing would end differently, with some kind of resolution to whatever was attacking and killing demi-Fae. She knew it was weighing heavily on Rowan and she, too, did not want to see anyone else hurt. Eventually, someone else would be attacked and they would need to start their search again.

As they reached the gate, Rowan glanced over at her, taking the time to sweep his eyes over the entirety of her dirt and sweat-encrusted clothes, stopping when he reached the patch of blood soaking her neckline. “You still stink,” was all he muttered before walking past her. She assumed she was dismissed and could go sink into a gloriously warm bath while he reported their lack of findings to the fort command. Celaena hurried down the hall to her room for a fresh outfit, hoping to actually be _in_ a tub before Rowan changed his mind and decided they should train for the rest of the afternoon. She supposed she was still on double-duty at the kitchen and would need to hurry there after her bath. But she still had at least a couple of hours before then in which she could take her time bathing, perhaps even catch some sleep beforehand.

After grabbing a spare change of clothes, Celaena walked into the bathing chamber almost giddily. She felt _disgusting_ and wasn’t sure what some of the stains on her pants were actually from. Shuddering, she slipped off her clothes and sank into one of the stone tubs, steam rising from the hot water. She sighed, relaxing back into the bath, letting her mind drift away with the rising fog.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Celaena awoke with a start. The chambers around her were dark without sunlight streaming in and the water in her tub was cold and murky. She hadn’t even remembered to scrub herself with soap before falling asleep and now she had no idea of the time. _I’m probably too late to help in the kitchen, but maybe there’s still food left_. She glanced around, trying to find the bar of soap in the dim light given off by the fire. She found it near her feet and began scrubbing her arms before immediately dropping it again, this time losing it in the dirty water surrounding her body. The water had certainly washed away the filth. Shivering, she quickly finished cleaning herself and jumped out, drying herself off with a thin linen towel. Her clothes from earlier had disappeared, _probably to be burned_ , so she didn’t bother worrying about them as she pulled on her clean set and rushed through the halls to the kitchen, braiding her hair back as she walked.

Celaena sighed with relief as she entered the kitchen. Emrys was just beginning to tell stories and there was still food left on the table. She slipped around the small crowd and sat down in an empty seat at the table, pulling a bowl near. Suddenly she began to feel exhausted, down into her bones. It felt as if she could lay her head on this table and fall asleep once again. Hunger won out, so she quickly devoured her food (much to Emrys’s delight; she could see a glint of joy appear in his eyes as he told his story and saw her shoveling food into her mouth). Finishing, she sighed, looking around. Rowan wasn’t here, either in person or in his hawk form. He was probably just as exhausted as she was. After rinsing out her bowl and placing it with the other clean dishes, Celaena had just enough energy to return to her cold room and fell asleep almost as soon as her head landed on the flat, musty pillow, not bothering to change her clothes or take off her shoes. _I forgot to take a tonic_ , she thought as her mind drifted off into unconsciousness, _I’ll take one in the morning_.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The days passed into weeks, each bringing more of the same. Celaena rose early enough to help in the kitchen before training outside with Rowan, only to return to the kitchen to help again before eventually heading to bed. The routine was easy enough to fall back into and pushed many of the questions Celaena had after the festival to the back of her mind. Spring would arrive within the month and she looked forward to warmer weather. Not only was it easier to train in, but her room was desperately chilly at night, not helped lately by her sudden inability to stay asleep through the whole night. Lately she’d taken to waking up in the early morning hours and found it difficult to return to sleep. Deciding the sooner she advanced in her skills the sooner she’d leave, Celaena began to sneak out into the early dawning light and cold mists to practice throwing and shielding herself from fire attacks, using the magical ward surrounding the fort as a wall to bounce her own attacks back to her.

She’d made ample progress and was quite pleased with herself, looking forward to seeing Rowan’s astonished face each morning as they began training and she advanced faster than he expected. This morning, however, something felt off. She’d noticed recently that, by the middle of their training sessions, her lack of sleep would suddenly catch up with her and she had a difficult time not asking for a break. Rowan would never allow one, anyway, so she pulled herself through training, never allowing him to see her struggle. Even so, she felt as though she could no longer work double-duty in the kitchen. With both insomnia at night and extra training in the morning, she was exhausted in the evenings. Even Emrys had taken notice last night, watching as her head drooped while cutting potatoes. After the second nod-off, he immediately ran over and took the knife away, glaring at Celaena as she did her best to scowl. He was a no-nonsense master of the kitchen and sent her to bed (after a quick meal of hot stew), telling her to return when she had adequately rested, no matter how Rowan might grumble. “Leave him to me, Elentiya,” he’d said as Malakai gave Celaena a dirty look from the corner.

As any early morning this past week, Celaena found herself standing in front of the fortress wall, throwing her fire knives and quickly raising her shield in defense. Unlike most other mornings, she felt hot, tiring more quickly than usual, and could feel her head begin to pound. Although she tried to fight through and continue practicing, her arms steadily became heavier and she could no longer concentrate, causing her to barely shield herself from her own fire attack. She sighed, giving up when one stray knife nicked her hair, deciding to head to the kitchen. Looking around she could tell it was still rather early. Rays of sunlight had just begun streaming over the trees, pushing back the line of night and dimming the stars still in the sky. Birds were beginning to wake up and the air still held a damp freshness which she knew would bake off by mid-afternoon, even if it was still winter. Even at this early hour, Celaena knew that Emrys woke up earlier than anyone and would be in the kitchen starting bread.

She headed through the hallways toward the kitchen, frowning as a wave of dizziness rushed at her. Startled, she stopped and looked around as if expecting an attack from some invisible assailant. She shook it off and entered the kitchen, sending a brief “good morning” to Emrys (who was indeed kneading dough at the table), who nodded at her before she got to work cutting onions. Celaena found her favorite knife (do those bastard guards use these knives to pick rocks out of their shoes? How do these rutting nicks keep roughing up the point?) and pulled over an onion. The scent of fresh bread filled the air as the loaves Emrys had already put in the oven turned a golden brown. Celaena found the morning in the kitchen peaceful without Luca talking non-stop and found herself humming a tune quietly to herself as she chopped.

“Would you check the porridge and stir it for me?” Emrys asked Celaena, gesturing with his floury hands towards the large cauldron held near the open flames of the large fireplace. Celaena nodded, crossing the room towards the fire. She began slowly stirring, hot steam and a rich smell wafting up to her face. Celaena moved her head around slowly, trying to ease the cricks that had formed lately in her neck. “Good morning, Emrys, Elentiya!” Her headache spiked. Celaena turned and nodded a quick hello to Luca, hoping his chatter would cease quickly. Her head was _throbbing_.

“Luca get started on those eggs,” ordered Emrys. Luca nodded, obediently pulling over a whisk and bowl of eggs. As he cracked and stirred, he began filling Celaena in on the festival two nights before, laughing at an incident involving Malakai drinking _amortentia_ and attempting to attack another guard who was only trying to speak with Emrys about a shipment of potatoes. Even with a headache, Celaena found this to be amusing and cracked a smile as Luca erupted in laughter upon seeing Malakai walk through the doorway, red blossoming over his frowning face.

As she turned back to her porridge, a sudden whiff of freshly scrambled eggs passed under her nose. Normally, this was a smell worth waking up to and one of her favorites each morning. This morning, however, she found herself covering her mouth and quickly backed up from the porridge, swallowing and trying to get rid of the urge to throw up. Her stomach settled for a second before she was running for the back door, making it outside in time to vomit whatever was left from last night’s dinner. Celaena spat the last bits out of her mouth, remembering feeling flushed earlier this morning and her sudden bout of dizziness in the hall. She wasn’t one to usually get sick, especially as a demi-Fae, but perhaps she picked something up from one of the travelers passing through.

Reentering the kitchen, she found Emrys standing up straight, arms crossed. “Elentiya, child, you are sick. Go see a healer.” Celaena opened her mouth to start arguing but Emrys only pointed out the door. “ _Go_. And do not return to my kitchen until the healer says you are healthy.” She sighed and nodded, recognizing the wisdom of this. If she continued working in the kitchen while sick, she might infect others. And if she tried to over-work, she might injure herself, losing progress in her training. Luca was unsuccessfully trying to covertly hold his breath as she walked past, as though that would protect him from any germs. Celaena rolled her eyes.

She walked out of the kitchen and headed to the healers’ quarters, wondering if they were even available yet to see her. As she walked, she passed Rowan heading to the kitchen, and he immediately frowned at her. “Why aren’t you in the kitchen?” Celaena stopped and moved to cover her mouth, hoping the smell of early morning vomit wasn’t evident to him.

“I’m not feeling well. Emrys sent me to see a healer.”

Rowan snorted and rolled his eyes, clearly not believing her. “It seems your Fae blood is fairly weak after all,” he said.

Celaena ignored him and started to move around him. Rowan gently grabbed her arm and she paused as he leaned in to sniff her. A myriad of shocked and confused expressions passed quickly over his face before his usual stoic mask slipped back on. “Don’t forget training. I expect to see you outside in an hour, sick or no.”

She nodded vaguely at him before trying once again to walk around him, but he once more grabbed her arm, this time pulling her quickly between himself and the wall, turning to growl at a passing guard. The guard nervously edged away, speeding up after passing them. Celaena rolled her eyes, shaking the territorial bastard’s hand off of her arm and pushed past him, ignoring the fluttering his strange behavior had created in her stomach.

When Celaena arrived at the healers’ room, one of the healers was up and working, preparing something for a guard, which she recognized as a tincture to help trigger bowel movements. The healer nodded towards a chair in the corner. “Have a seat and I’ll be back to see you in just a minute,” she said, walking out the door. Celaena sat down to wait for the healer to return, looking around the room. It was clean and simple; a desk with a chair, a larger table in front of shelves filled with labeled ingredients, and a few small cots arranged in a row, a privacy shield sitting next to one of them.

More quickly than she expected, the healer returned and shuffled in front of Celaena. “What is the problem?” she asked, searching Celaena as if she might find the answer hidden on her. _Rowan’s odd behavior this morning for one_ , Celaena thought before describing her symptoms to the healer, who stood up and started muttering to herself. She checked inside Celaena’s throat, and felt her forehead and neck, frowning at the bite scar she saw marking her neck. “Lay down on one of the beds.” The healer gestured towards the cots and Celaena lay down hesitantly, wondering if she should be worried. The healer began pressing gently on her stomach, closing her eyes and feeling for something. She _hmm_ -ed and _tssk_ -ed again, telling Celaena to pull down her pants and pull up her knees, walking over to lock the door.

“When did you last menstruate?” she asked, walking back and kneeling in front of Celaena, who was feeling even more confused and slightly embarrassed at the attention. “I’m not sure, it’s been awhile.” _That_ was an understatement. The last time she’d bled had been before Varese. She smirked, remembering Choal’s discomfort with her _situation_. The healer rubbed an ointment onto two of her fingers before suddenly pushing them inside Celaena. This was _definitely_ _not_ how she saw this morning going. The healer pressed back on her stomach with her other hand, continuing to push her fingers into Celaena far enough that she began to feel an uncomfortable pressure. After what seemed like hours of rather embarrassing discomfort, the healer pulled out her fingers and walked over to wash them in the basin with a bar of soap and water from a jug. “You can pull your pants back up.” She turned to Celaena. “You're not sick.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Celaena wandered out of the healer’s room in shock, listening to her words and warnings repeat in her head. She could give her a tonic to abort if she wanted, but in the meantime needed to stay away from strenuous activities. How in the _rutting hell_ did she become _pregnant?_ She looked down at her flat stomach and glared, hoping it held the answers. And although it probably shouldn’t be the main concern, she couldn’t stop wondering if, at the height of her pregnancy, she would still fit into that pretty dress she’d left in Rifthold or if a seamstress could adjust it for her. What _was_ pregnancy fashion like?

Celaena walked aimlessly in shock until she found herself outside in the clearing, Rowan already waiting for her, sharpening a knife. He looked up and seemed surprised that she was early and maybe a bit concerned at her paleness, but quickly hid any lingering emotions. “We’re starting out this morning with only a light jog before we continue shielding. Ten miles. Shift.” Celaena tilted her head, looking at him, still lost in her mind, before shifting and following after him into the woods. She stumbled more than usual, a lack of food and dehydration mixed with yesterday’s exhaustion. Rowan kept glancing at her, seeming to be unsure if something was actually wrong with her. Celaena could have sworn, though, that he slowed down and even cut their run by half before returning to the clearing and throwing a knife of ice at her head. Celaena managed to lift a partial shield just in time to block it before she swiftly shook herself out of her mental fog and focused on beating the rutting hell out of that bastard’s ass.

Celaena managed to shield and throw her knives as well (or almost as well) as she normally did, perhaps only a split second slower than usual. But she also fell on the ground a few times to dodge the knives Rowan relentlessly threw at her when she was too slow to shield. “Is this what you call progress?” Rowan growled, coming in closer to glare at her as he stood over her. “You’re fucking regressing.” Celaena sighed and closed her eyes, “I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling defeated. “I’m done.” Rowan strangely didn’t argue this and just stood frozen, watching as she stood up and slowly walked back inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Celaena felt refreshed after a bath and long nap post-training and made her way to the kitchen, grateful that Emrys had given her time off from her duties. Although, she supposed, since she wasn’t truly sick, she would need to return at some point. As she entered the warm, crowded room, filled with Emrys’s voice as it weaved a story for his listeners, she looked around for Rowan. She needed to talk with him. She needed to know what happened that night, or at least admit to him that she made a mistake and would need a few days out of practice to take care of her _problem_. She was torn about that decision, though, knowing that as the last of her line, she had a duty to provide an heir to her country. And as a demi-Fae, conceiving was extremely difficult and dangerous. This could be her only chance to have the child. _But in the middle of a_ war? One she wasn’t even sure they could win?

She didn’t see Rowan at first glance, so she took a seat at the table, pulling food to herself. As she ate, she heard a sudden flap of wings and, turning, she saw a white hawk sitting nearby in the window. She smiled, deciding that she couldn’t put this off any longer, and was about to walk over to him when what appeared to be a large mountain lion prowled down to the back door. Before she could react, Rowan shifted, greeting what she now saw was another Fae male. _They look close_ , she thought, watching them embrace. _Maybe friends. Maybe more than friends._ Without looking back to the kitchen, Rowan led the other male towards the fort’s side entrance, presumably to return to his room. Celaena felt curiosity overtake her. She moved to grab a tray and filled it with two bowls of hot stew before turning and making for the hallway, leaving behind the gentle cadence of Emrys’s story.

When she arrived, she took a breath before knocking. Perhaps she should turn around? (Although with their Fae senses they had probably already smelled her out). A sudden wave of dizziness and fatigue made the decision for her as she found herself leaning against the door, the tray knocking loudly into the wood. “What?” snapped a deep voice from inside. _What if this is Rowan’s lover and I’m interrupting something?_ Still struggling to fight off the dizziness, Celaena cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but Rowan swiftly pulled open the door, standing there glaring at her. “I thought you might be hungry,” she mumbled, “and I need…” “I don’t give a rutting _fuck_ what you think you need,” growled Rowan. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” muttered Celaena, stepping quickly inside and setting the tray on the table. She saw the other Fae male laying on his back on the worktable with his shirt off with what looked to be tattoo instruments on a small chair near him. He had a look of complete devastation on his face as he turned to look at Celaena. “I’m sorry,” she said again, walking quickly from the room.

Rowan slammed the door behind her, and she didn’t make it far down the hall before she had to lean against the wall, holding her stomach and resting her head gently against her hand on the wall. She tried to take deep, calming breaths to control both the anxiety from the interaction as well as the dizziness that still had not left her. Rowan’s door opened again, and he walked out, stalking over to where Celaena stood. She could hear the anger in his footsteps and breathing and saw it in his face as she turned. She could tell he was furious but, in her state, she couldn’t find it in herself to actually care. “Do you do it for money?” she challenged him. “It’s none of your business,” he snarled at her.

“You know, it might be better if you just slapped me instead.”

“Instead of what?”

“Instead of reminding me again and again how rutting worthless and awful and cowardly I am. I do that well enough on my own. I’m damn tired of your insults. I came up to talk to you, I have something to say and I needed information from you first. But you know what? You didn’t even bother to tell me you’d be unavailable. If you’d said something, I never would have come. I’m sorry I did. But you just _left me_ downstairs.” She felt a sort of panic rise up and a wave of nausea wash over her. She was sure her face was turning all sorts of colors.

Rowan leaned in closely, looking at her viciously, as though hating her very existence. “There is nothing I can give you. Nothing I _want_ to give you. I do not owe you an explanation and I do not care about your problems. What happens outside of training means nothing to me. _You_ are nothing and I _do not care_.”

Celaena’s ears began to ring as she took in his statement. She felt herself both becoming numb and on the verge of a panic attack. Rowan turned away and walked back into his room, slamming the door behind him. Celaena found she could no longer stand, that flickering flame inside of her guttering out and despair taking its place. Leaning against the wall and using it to pull herself along, she made it outside before falling to the ground and vomiting, no longer able to hold in her sobs as she felt herself being torn apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rowan's being an ass and Aelin is in the depths of despair. It's difficult to write these chapters because despairing Aelin feels so out of character from "normal" Aelin. 
> 
> Coming up next chapter (which should be out this weekend): Rowan's angst reaches new highs as he tries to navigate the perils of fluff. 
> 
> For those wondering what the hell Aelin's plan is, there is a plan. Which I'll elucidate my reasoning for in the coming chapters.


End file.
